


and if you let me inside,

by fuckingkinney



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Community: hannibalkink, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckingkinney/pseuds/fuckingkinney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Hannibal and Will were accidentally caught having sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and if you let me inside,

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to a prompt on the hannibal kink livejournal, and possibly the longest fic I have done to date. 
> 
>  
> 
> _'5 times they were caught having sex - accidental voyeurism._  
>  5 times fic or you could do it as a 5 +1 if you want to add a final scene where they don't get interrupted.  
> Some suggestions - feel free to use any of these or add your own:  
> *One of Hannibal's patients (bonus for Franklyn) catches them at Hannibal's office (bonus if its on the ladder)  
> *Jack or one of the science team catches them at Quantico.  
> *One of Hannibal's dinner guests walks in on them getting it on in the kitchen during one of Hannibal's parties.  
> *Some random person walks in on them making out at a semi-public location, makes a shitty comment and ends up a ripper victim.  
> *The reason they get caught after going on the run is because Hannibal was too distracted nailing Will to a hotel bed (or wall) too care about the FBI on their trail.  
> If you do the +1 one it could be after they get away again and end up on some private beach somewhere.'

Franklyn is aware that he’s just over half an hour early, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d been sitting in his home, impatient and anxious. There were too many things buzzing around in his mind, none of them silent. Why would Hannibal object to him being early? It’s tardiness that makes the man frown, narrow his eyes in a way that suggests that he _isn’t_ really listening as Franklyn prattles on about the dreams he has, the meanings he believes they have. No, he can’t stand the thought of that happening again.

The waiting room is empty as he arrives, as expected. He doesn’t know if he has a patient, and a part of him _doesn’t care_. He can wait, he can—

Only there’s a noise behind closed doors, then again. It makes something inside him stir and he can’t stop himself from raising from the chair he’d only just sat in, pushing to his feet and letting his hand curl around the door handle. Curiosity always did get the better of him.

The sight catches him off guard, but it’s not unpleasant. There is a moment of _jealousy_ that curls within his gut, bitter and twisted in all the ways he accuses Tobias of being.

Fingers grip hips, and he can see the marks beneath them forming already. Will Graham is bent at an angle, forced onto the tips of his toes with the way he is bent over in front of the ladder, fingers clawing at the wood and clinging on as though he’s going to fall over. A part of Franklyn has to wonder how he hasn’t already.

The other is in the man’s dark hair, eyes closed despite the way his head is pulled back, neck exposed and noises tumbling from his lips shamelessly. His chest is colliding with the steps with each fuck, and it’s only then that Franklyn allows himself to look at his psychiatrist. 

He looks calm, collected. The only difference is the sweat forming on the skin visible, mostly clothed, and the way his hair has been tussled out of place. From fingers, Franklyn expects. Hannibal’s own leave Will’s hair and he presses against his bare back, hand working over him and the words spoken against his ear are too quiet for him to hear. The noises Will makes gain volume, _needy_ , and Franklyn has to force himself to shut the door then. He turns, quick and flurried as he heads back towards where he’d parked his car. He still has half an hour, maybe worsening the doctor’s mood by being late will be a hard thing to achieve after that...

* * *

Her plan had failed, and there was a part of Margot that felt as though she owed Will an apology – just _something_ to reassure him that the mess created had been because of her, not him.

Who would have suspected that Mason would go through all the trouble to have her uterus forced out of her body, at even the **risk** of being replaced as the heir of the Verger inheritance? They both knew; if it was a _boy_ , he would be finished. She would no longer need him, and that was why…

Gravel crunches beneath her feet as she heads closer to the house in front of her, but she doesn’t make it to the front door. The curtains are open, and Margot isn’t entirely surprised by the fact. They’re in the middle of _nowhere_ – who walks by, or who is even here, unless they have a reason for it?

She’d noticed the car, not given much thought to who it belonged to until it was too late. _Silly her_. 

The windows are closed, but she can still see them. Still hear the noises, loud enough to vibrate through her mind as she stands on the other side. She’s not one for embarrassment, nor does she think it’s a necessary emotion. Even in this circumstance. 

Will’s eyes are closed as he presses his forehead to the sheets beneath him, arms tugged behind his back and Hannibal gripping hold of them as he _pounds_ into the man. Margot can’t think of a time she’s seen sex quite like that, can’t say that she heard _those_ noises from Will Graham as she pinned him down beneath her hands, fucked down onto him like her life depended on it... In her defence, _it had_ at the time.

Hannibal’s gaze lifts from Will laid out before him, and their eyes connect. The man doesn’t even falter in his movements, and Margot can’t stop the smirk that curls up her mouth, torn between impressed and amused. She’s more than sure that the look is all too clear in her face, if Hannibal’s is anything to go by. His expression mimics her own.

With a mere nod, shameless in her staring, Margot finally takes a step back and away from the house before her. The moans still ring in her ears when she gets to her car, turns the engine on. Well… At least Will Graham has new ways to keep himself _distracted_. 

* * *

They were meant to be working on a case. That was the only reason Beverly Katz was still in the halls, couldn’t quite bring herself to leave like Zeller and Price… Not until she was _finished_ , and she didn’t know how long that would be.

Jack was locked away in his office, and she can imagine him with a bottle of scotch open at his side, a frown on his face and the weight of the world settled on his shoulders. She decides against disturbing him, hasn’t found anything important enough to justify it. She’s aware that Will Graham is around somewhere, but she hasn’t seen him in a while.

It’s when she walks the halls, intending to leave, that she hears it. She’s finally given up, knows that she either needs a pot of coffee to drown herself in or sleep. The machine has run empty, something she’ll have to restock tomorrow, so the latter will have to do for now.

Her footsteps come to a stop and she pauses, a frown on her face. It takes her a moment before she’s moving again, although closer to the doors that surround her. The hallways is lined with them, most of them empty and bare. They aren’t used, expect for meetings and the odd seminar. Beverly doesn’t need to go in there, and so she doesn’t. There’s always the rare exception though—

She’s careful, quiet, as she opens the door that is the route of the noise. 

Will Graham is laying back, propped up on his elbows and fingers gripping a hold of Hannibal Lecter’s bare forearms as the man fucks into him. It’s slow, their foreheads pressed together, and dare she say _intimate_. They’re breathing in each other’s air more than they are kissing, and the sound of whimpers fills her ears. _Desperate_ is the first word to spring to mind, but Will is silenced with a noise, kissed hard. 

Beverly watches the way that his features change, eyes closed and eyebrows drawing together as he gasps against Hannibal’s mouth. The older man merely chuckles and his movements slow down, but still obvious to her gaze. It occurs to her, belatedly, that she’s just watched Will _come_ and the thought rushes through her, hot and enough to make her stomach clench.

She’ll blame it on sleep deprivation, she decides, as she closes the door, presses her back against it lightly and lets her nostrils flare. Composure is failing her, and that’s not a thought she dwells on for too long. She can’t allow herself the time, before she’s moving, heading for her car despite the urge to _now_ join Jack. A drink is the least she needs, after that.  

* * *

The sound of violins fill the room, and opera overwhelms every corner she stands in, people in a flurry around her. She’s attended Hannibal’s dinner parties for _years_ , but she can’t quite remember one to this calibre. It is overwhelming, perfected to the point in which Alana hesitantly waits for something to **_crack_**. Not that she wants to, nor does she _actually_ expect it to happen. Hannibal is always overly-prepared, and yet he makes it look _effortless_. A part of her envies him, in that respect. She wishes she could be so collected, so calm, surrounded by a sea of faces; all of brimming with expectation.

Managing to pry herself away from an older gentleman, a grin on his face and words _flying_ out of his mouth in a mixture of both French and English, Alana tried to compose. She breathes, eyes closing and it takes her a moment. She’s hovering by the kitchen door, Hannibal long since disappeared through it, confident that his guests could make entertainment among themselves during his absence.

It won’t be the first time that she’s been in his kitchen, doubtful that he will mind regardless of how much he stills needs to get done. Judging from the amount of time he’s been there, Alana imagines he’s nearly finished anyway—

The thought is quickly gone from her mind as she pushes open the door, takes a step inside… Only to come to a stop at the sight, and she’s _so glad_ that no one decided to follow her inside. Alana nearly chokes on her own tongue, flounders but can’t quite find it within herself to leave as quickly as she entered.

The figure kneeling on the floor is, without a doubt, Will. His suit will have crinkles on it, but she imagines Hannibal will only _smirk_ at the fact and make sure no one else notices. His back is to Alana, a hum quiet in the room as his head moves, fast, insistent. There’s a hand in his hair, grip tight but not forcing him. The other is on the side of his face, thumb pressed into his cheek and Alana feels as though there is no longer air in her lungs.

She makes eye contact with Hannibal after she manages to tear her gaze away from the man knelt in front of him, and he merely raises his top lip into what could be a snarl— only he grunts, features scrunching for a mere second and Will makes a noise beneath him, head coming to a stop.

Her own eyes widen and she turns, closes the door behind her and heads back out. She waves off the questions about the blush on her features, ignores the heat that’s pooled in her gut, insists that the warmth of the room and the wine mixed have started to get to her head. 

Hannibal walks out, plates balanced on his forearms, and fucking _grins_ at her, like the smug bastard he has always been.

* * *

Their gasps can be heard from outside of the shitty motel room they’ve locked themselves in, and Jack can’t stop the disgust that is threatening to get the better of him. He just wants to get this over with; he doesn’t want to think about Will and Hannibal, fucking. He doesn’t want to think that the man he was meant to _protect_ , that he’d given his word to not let too deep, was now playing into the hands of a man he had once trusted. Will was a victim in this, just as much as the girls who had their organs cut out. Hannibal just hadn’t dissected him… but there was still time for that, and if he didn’t move quickly, then it would run out and leaving him with another dead corpse and blood on his hands.

The team surround him, waiting for a signal and the sound of a particularly _loud_ noise makes his gaze drop to the floor. Fingers clench into a fist at his side and nostrils flare, trying to keep himself under control. He is a professional, he _has_ to remain that way. His own personal feelings cannot get in the way – and so with that thought, he gives a mere nod, and watches as teams of police, FBI and the like, swarm in.

They break down the door, and Jack hangs back. He gives them a moment to collect themselves, to stop himself from walking in on the sight of both Hannibal and Will in a compromising position. It probably served them right, deciding to pull over whilst they were being hunted down. To _fuck_. It makes him angry, but there’s a large part of him that isn’t surprised. Hannibal never has been one to be subtle, or even care. He has discovered this far too late for his own good, but that doesn’t matter. It isn’t a mistake he will make again.

Will at least has the decency to look _ashamed_ of himself once Jack is finally in the room, pressed beneath layers of sheets and blankets. No one’s attention is on him though, but on the man pinned to the floor. His shirt is open, hair tussled, and his trousers are barely done up properly. If Jack were to stare long enough, he’s sure the man is still _hard_. The thought is dismissed and it takes him a moment to look Hannibal in the eyes, jaw clenching when he finally forces himself.

“Take him away,” is all he says, before watching as they do. With a final look towards Will, or the man he _no longer knew_ , his head shakes and he follows, lets the door swing closed after him.

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to do the +1 when they weren't interrupted, but I totally ran out of time. I also forgot to do someone finding them outside, but then it would have been 6 times and that may be pushing it slightly--  
> but hey, if you guys like it enough then I might just add another chapter and include non-interrupted sex.  
> Feedback would be amazing, and very appreciated, but I hope you like the fic regardless!


End file.
